The French Maid!
by AtlantisJoeFan
Summary: An extension of a sequence from my story 'Putting it Back Together' this is a raunchier version of the scene on the east pier between John Sheppard and Cat. Rated M so beware!


Cat had plans. A welcome home that John would not forget. Once again, she had been busy on the east pier, the scene of so many of their 'encounters', not at work as he thought. Again, a table had been set, with the candelabra and two chairs. She wasn't the only one who was looking forward to his release from the infirmary and she had been puzzling over how to make it memorable, given the weakened and sore state he was in. Then, she had a brain wave. She had gone to see Amelia Banks, a surprising enthusiast for amateur theatre who had set up a small acting group, hoping that she would have the costume she was looking for in the growing Atlantis wardrobe cupboard. From the look on Amelia's face, she rather suspected that she wasn't the first person to borrow this particular outfit! When she crept into their quarters that afternoon, he was fast asleep in bed, looking so beautiful despite his reddened face that she almost crept in next to him but, resisting the temptation, left the invitation on her pillow and quietly crept out again. It had become a rather charming habit for them to formally invite each other to romantic dinners and dates, a habit which they were both determined to continue. In a world where the future is uncertain, and the present can be difficult, both felt the need to maintain the romance in their relationship. And tonight, Cat was determined to show that life could be fun and silly, and try to put some of the traumatic last few weeks away: a time when they both thought they had lost the other.

By the time John hobbled to the pier, everything was in place. He could see the table in its usual place and a figure dressed in black standing next to it, but it wasn't until he nearly reached it that he was able to take in what she was wearing and he was amused and aroused in equal measure. He allowed his gaze to rise from her black stiletto shoes, up her be-stockinged legs (he could see quite clearly the suspenders poking out from beneath her short frilly skirt), past the flouncy black and white skirt, to the little white apron with lace edges, up to the black blouse, buttons undone as far as she dared, to a smiling face, and blonde hair pushed up into a frilly maid's cap.

'Good evening, sir,' she said in her best French accent, 'would you like to sit down. Your dinner is ready.'

Cat also took a moment to peruse John. For a man who claimed not to 'care' about clothes, he always did a damn fine job of wearing them. Tonight, he was wearing her favourite blue plaid shirt, as ever undone just one button too far to show off his chest, which she knew him to be very proud of. She smiled at the escape route his shirt was taking from the jeans that skimmed slender hips. When dressed casually, he was endlessly tucking his shirt in or hitching his trousers up. She wondered if he could be totally unaware of the effect he had on the female populations, given that at this precise moment his tight jeans were doing a very poor job of hiding his arousal. John could do scruffy to perfection. He had shaved, but there was still a ghosting of shadow across his jaw-line and the dark hair, as ever, was doing its gravity defying impression. Not for the first time she marvelled at his effortless ability to look so damn sexy with so little apparent effort when it took her hours to achieve the same effect.

John was literally stunned into silence by the vision in front of him; he allowed himself to be sat down at the table and, as she pushed his chair in for him, she let her breasts gently brush the back of his neck. Cat smiled as he felt his intake of breath. Oh, yes, this was going to be fun. And, given the rather uncomfortable way he was sitting, he was enjoying it too. Walking to his side, she leant as seductively as she could manage across him, and unfolding the serviette with a flourish, placed it on his lap, lingering long enough for him to get a good look at her barely covered breasts. A hand worked its way up her leg to where her suspenders joined her stockings.

Trying to hold back from laughing, she said huskily, 'Now, now , sir, you are supposed to be taking it easy and it is my job to serve you,' as she moved his hand from her stocking tops and guided it higher. John gasped as he realised that she was not wearing any underwear, truthfully not the first time she had managed to surprise him, though never quite like this. His hand worked its way to the soft folds between her legs and she gently parted them so that he could gain easier access. Keeping her hand on his, she guided his middle finger into her, allowing him to feel how wet she was for him.

At the same time, she swung around and faced him, straddling his lap, taking great care not to put pressure on his bandaged leg. Oh yes, she thought, he's certainly enjoying this! She could feel the hardness of his erection vibrating through her as he continued to explore, crooking his finger. His other hand began to snake around her waist, and although she had intended to maintain absolute control, there were limits, and she really did love the feel of his strong arms around her. For a moment, they stilled and made smiling eye-contact, his eyes dark and full of want. Then they were kissing hotly, his tongue tasting her, exploring every corner of her mouth. She could feel the heat beginning to rise and knew that it wouldn't be long before he took her over the edge. John had learnt exactly how to push her buttons.

Moaning into his mouth, she moved her hands up inside his shirt, and caressed his wonderfully strong chest. She loved the feel of his chest and shoulders, with the power that was clearly contained within them and, pushing his plaid shirt off, she leant forward and planted sensuous kisses on his torso. As she slowly undid all his buttons, his free hand wandered from her waist and fondled her ass, while he renewed his assault with the other, bringing her to the peak, and wave after wave of exquisite sensations. How could he do that to her so quickly?

When she found breath, she looked back into his eyes which were smiling with pleasure.

'Oh, sir, you are so naughty,' she teased, trying to maintain the accent, 'but it is I who should be giving you pleasure.' At this, he simple raised an eyebrow and moved his hands to his sides, a lascivious smile on his face.

Cat slowly undid his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops and throwing it behind them, undid the zip on his jeans, then wriggled down his legs, pulling his jeans down as she did, and allowing the back of her hand to brush past his now straining erection, but all the time keeping eye contact with him. She wanted to see his reaction and was not displeased with the look on his face. Slowly, she undid his shoe laces, and deliberately took off each shoe, dramatically tossing them towards his belt, followed quickly by his jeans. She heard him gasp, as she began to make her way up his body again, until she was level with his boxers, cupping him in her hands, before moving her hands to his waist, lightly touching the skin underneath and then rolling them down to his ankles; they followed in the general direction of the belt, shoes and jeans.

As she rose to her knees, she gave his body a lingering look, then said, still in role, 'Oh sir, what a big boy you are. Is little Johnny ready to play?' By the groan he made, she was sure he was enjoying this as much as she was if that was possible and, as she began to sensuously stroke up and down his length, he became even harder and she could see that she might have to slow it down a bit.

'What would sir like me to do now?' she purred. She felt his hands tentatively push her head down towards him, and smiled. 'Okay, sir, I can do that, but only if you're a good boy!' She allowed her tongue to taste him, teasing him, before she took him fully into her mouth, moaning as she did so.

'Oh, God, Cat, if you carry on like that I'm not going to last,' he murmured incoherently.

Cat stopped, and raised herself up to meet his heavily hooded eyes. She was still in her maid's clothes, although in truth they left very little to the imagination. Slowly, she undid the bow on her maid's apron, and threw it over his head, then very deliberately undid each button on the front of her shirt. She had planned this well and she could see his eyes open wider at the sight of her very seductive and barely there black satin bra. The bra clasp was the next to go, and she performed a rather elaborate striptease movement, swinging it over her head and off in the darkness, too far gone to worry about where it might have ended up. She felt his hands moving up her back and decided that she would let them roam, pressing her breasts against his chest as he did. After all, too much control was a bad thing and he had a great imagination! Slowly, she raised her hips and allowed him to enter her, stretching her to the full as always. When she had teased him by saying 'big boy' she had only partly been joking! Slowly she raised herself up so as not to hurt his injured leg and then gently downwards again, making all the moves and staying in control, although she could tell that he was not. Days of pent up stress, coupled with his dreams the night before and the vision in front of him, pushed John to the edge. He held on until he felt the soft fluttering and heard her whisper 'John' in his ear, before he finally let go and came to a shuddering climax.

It took them several minutes to recover their senses, before Cat leaned forward and planted little kisses all over his chest and up his strong neck, past his Adam's apple, finally landing a loving kiss on his lips, then she carefully extricated herself from their jungle of limbs. She took the opportunity to look back at John, half sitting, half lying on the chair, naked and sated, in a state of absolute debauchment and she giggled at the thought that she had done that!

'Sit still, sir, you have not been well,' she said, still with the accent,' let me find your clothes and dress you.' And she did, performing the task so effectively that by the time she had finished, he was ready to start again. She, on the other hand, had no idea where her bra had gone, it had disappeared into the night, but had had the foresight to bring a large coat to cover her. The two made their way back as quickly as they could to their quarters. The food never did get eaten, and the table was left untouched until she came back to clear up in the morning, because after she had shown him how much fun being with her could be, he acted out some fantasies of his own. By the time morning arrived, it was just as well that he was off duty and she had taken the day off, because, for the first time in days, they could be found blissfully asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.


End file.
